Alfred a History
by Fraulein Weisenheimer
Summary: Did you ever wonder how Alfred got his start? Well, he wasn't always called Alfred. Once Upon a Time he was called Harry. Not Slash.
1. Knight Bus

According to Harry Potter, the Dursley family was NOT normal, thank you very much. He had lived with them for sixteen years, and so thought he knew them well enough to judge. So now, on his seventeenth birthday, he was perfectly prepared to never see them again. He had only stayed this long to respect the wishes of his dead headmaster. But the blessed day had finally arrived, and the short boy was packed and ready to leave at the first moment of his seventeenth year.

BOOM!

Harry's birthday started out with a bang, mirroring that of a birthday long past. This time, however, the boom was not so friendly.

"Come out young Harry," a high pitched voice called brining a sharp pain to the lightning shaped cut on the recipient's forehead.

"No!" Harry cried softly to himself, realizing how stupid it had been to wait. He would have to fight his last battle here, alone as he was, in the muggle world where none of the people poised to be hurt had ever heard of the parasite called Voldemort.

Anger coursed through his veins. How dare Dumbledore put these people in danger by placing a wizard among them? How dare Harry stay with them until all the protections were lost?

"Expelliamus! Harry whispered desperately. All those innocents were now his responsibility.

Disbelief washed over Harry as he captured a wand. Had Voldemort really been holding his weapon so loosely? The answer was no, the pseudo-wand exploded upon reaching Harry's window, shattering the glass. Shards flayed Harry's face, hands and arms. Ignoring the pain, Harry franticly listed spells in his mind that might help him without backfiring.

A quick flick of the wrist and an eyeball was scooped out of Voldemort's socket with a household melon baler charm. Another wave had all the hairs remaining on the snakelike body ripped out with a quick plucking charm.

"Crucio!" Voldemort screeched his revenge for his smarting hairless nostrils. Harry was forced away from the window with the flash of light.

Shrinking all he worldly possessions and freeing Hedwig, the young hero proceeded to run down the creaky stairs, the noise of the last stair is what finally woke Petunia who after years of teenagers, was attuned to the sound of her son sneaking out. She ignored this and saved her life by staying out of the battle.

Only one thing remained to be done. Running out to confront Voldemort, Harry lifted his wand. Then his jaw dropped. Voldemort, the most feared wizard in Britain was killed by a giant purple bus. The only witness was then invited to pay eleven sickles to ride anywhere in the country. Fifteen if he wanted hot chocolate.

Harry smiled and boarded, rubbing the scratches on his face to make sure no blood was leaking. "Leaky Caldron," was all he said and then Harry Potter, The-Boy-Who-Lived-Again, fell into and exhausted sleep.

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Using the last of his school money, Harry paid for his bus ride and got off. He walked straight to Gringots to take out some more money so he could finally get some clothes beyond his school robes. The dark haired boy rode down into the darkness with a goblin escort thinking of all the things he could now do as an adult.

The vault was empty. Harry was confused, he knew he hadn't spent this much money. In fact, he hadn't even been to his vault since third year. A stray thought passed through his head, 'the Weasleys had been dipping in,' but he brushed it away. Being poor didn't make them dishonorable, maybe school had cost him more than he thought.

"Do I have a family vault? I thought this was just the trust fund." Harry said calmly. Surely he had more money.

The goblin replied somewhat gleefully, "Trust fund? Why would your parents set you up with a trust fund? They didn't have that much money. Nope, I suggest you find yourself a job. Gringotts policy only allows empty vaults to sit for one year before the patron account is closed."

Harry weakly sat down for the cart ride back to the surface. A jolt passed over him as he realized that he wouldn't be able to make enough money in one summer to finish his Hogwarts education. He didn't have the grades to be granted a scholarship. He wasn't even underage anymore; the government was no longer required to make sure he had an education.

A job, the goblin had said, he needed to get a job. Harry walked out into the sunlight. What kind of job would a drop out with no special skills be able to get. Sure he could play quittich, but most teams were in training right now and wouldn't be recruiting until at least next May.

Harry had thought he wanted to be an auror, but without NEWTs, that dream would never be realized. He refused to use his fame to try and bend rules. The question the newly poor boy was faced with was 'What special skills do I have?'

'Well,' he thought, 'I can cook. I can also clean and do yard work. But there is magic for that, no one needs manual labor in the wizarding world.' Then Harry realized what he had been dancing around, 'Not in the wizarding world, but definitely in the normal world!'

Harry ran out of Diagon Alley not noticing the strange looks that were passed his way. He had hope again and nothing could get him down. He searched the ground for a quarter, finding two before he ran over to a news box and inserted the first. He opened the door and pulled out a Times looking for the want adds. Feverishly hunting through them, Harry ripped out the few manual labor jobs with no school requirement. He finally found one that looked right for him.

Maid wanted, Horton Hotel. The job sounded a bit girly, but wasn't he just a maid to the Dursleys anyway? Harry walked toward the address thinking he had no time to loose. The brunet finally found the place he was looking for and asked for an application. The receptionist sneered at his clothes, but assumed he was just trying to look cool and didn't look too closely.

Harry quickly filled out the application but was stumped at the address and telephone number that were required fields. Harry shrugged and filled in the Dursleys information and then checked the "no" box for pay cheques to be sent in the mail. As long as he never missed work, they would never have cause to call him, and he could always change his information when he got a place to live.

Harry, coming down from the rush that had caused him to act so rashly, shyly presented his application to the receptionist. She looked over it and seemed to decide that inexperienced help was better than no help at all.

"I suppose you'll have to do for now. But be warned, if you don't work hard, we do reserve the right to fire you."

Harry nodded meekly, "Yes ma'am."

"Good that you understand, Mary will show you the ropes, and just so you know," she leaned forward and focused on him, "Uniform is required!"

The other maid, Mary, scurried to him and latched herself onto his arm, steering him forward. She wore a somewhat rumpled blue uniform and had raggedy hair. She brought him into a Laundry that was full of sheets and towels and had cupboards full of mini toiletries. From out of a canvas bin, she produced a clean male uniform in the same shade of blue. It had no name tag, but as she said "No one needs to see you, your job is to clean up while the guests are gone."

Harry was glad to get new clothes, even if he was trading one uniform for another. He was also eager to get to work. He had no home and no money for one, so he signed up for all the hours he could. He also asked about working in the kitchen as a second job. He was told by the other workers that companies couldn't legally make someone work that long, but if he applied under another name, he could take the second job. Harry realized that if he did this, he would almost never be free, but since he had no where to go, he guessed that wouldn't be a problem.

And so, Alfred Pennyworth was born.

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edited 6/16/08


	2. Bank

Harry thought long and hard about his first paycheck

Harry thought long and hard about his first paycheck. Now was the time to decide the rest of his life. Gringotts didn't cash muggle checks, and it would be a lot of work to cash at a muggle bank and then transfer to Gringotts only to have to convert it back to pounds when he needed them. Quite the bother over one little pay stub. At the same time, Harry could hardly bare to let go of the only home he had ever known. Still, Harry had been missing for two weeks and not one of his friends had even tried to contact him.

Harry certainly didn't want to sound bitter, but he felt that after defeating Voldemort he should finally be able to spend time with those he loved with out the pressure of an all out war breathing down their necks. No letters. The last time this had happened, a house elf had been responsible. Even his fifth year, he at least got empty letters letting him know his friends were alive. Yet somehow, Harry had the feeling that Dobby was not involved.

'Maybe they don't really care how you are doing, you served your purpose after all," Harry shook himself to rid his head of that nasty voice. What was wrong with him? First suspecting the Weasleys of less than honorable behavior, and now all but accusing his friends of using him?

Harry sighed and made up his mind. Walking the short way to the local bank Harry's appearance changed. He was suddenly a little bit taller and his hair was brown and neat, like Lupin's. Harry allowed himself a neat mustache to complete the sophisticated look. The paper in his hand was shortly made into an ID giving Harry four more years of life and the name Alfred Pennyworth. Getting mixed up in something just for his name wasn't high on his priority list, and changing his age would put him out of any searches for 'Harry Potter.'

The building was cool and dark, with nice furniture and a quiet atmosphere. Harry waited for service in the roped off line, only to be sent to one of the desks to open an account. The woman who helped him was friendly looking, and her name tag dubbed her Emily.

"Now, do you have an existing account?" She asked politely.

"No, err, I just used my parent's until now." Harry said hesitantly.

"Well, all your paperwork seems to be in order." She admitted.

"Is it… Would it be possible for my account to be shared between two people?" Harry remembered that his paycheck would be coming under two names.

"I suppose that would be fine, couples do it all the time. Are you going to be engaged?" She looked a little hesitant.

"NO! I mean, no. I um, I have a friend who is still underage. I just wondered if we could share since he is abroad and can't really apply for a shared account when his parents don't live here." Harry was flying by the seat of his pants on this story.

"Well, you aren't related but… hmm. I suppose if your friend got a written letter of recommendation from his parents allowing for you to guard his moneys." She thought about this, "Also, he wouldn't be able to withdraw anything without you present. Its not that we don't trust him," she said quickly, "that's just standard procedure with underage patrons."

Harry tried to keep a straight face. This was perfect!

Emily passed him a bundle of paperwork. "You need to sign these, and get your young friend to sign them. Then have his parents fax these to us, or just mail them." As she spoke she pointed to various lines where little Xs denoted the need for signatures.

"Thank you!" Harry said sincerely and shook her hand in a business deal.

Harry walked out of the bank on top of the world. He was taking charge of his life! More than just a job, he would soon have a place in the world.

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It took the next two weeks to get his affairs in order. For the most part, the letter from his other self's "parents" was by far the hardest thing about the situation. He wondered if he could eventually just dump his Harry Potter persona. It had been a month without contact with friends and Hogwarts started today. He figured that if no one he cared about was looking for him, there was no sense in putting himself in danger just to allow ex-deatheaters to find him.

He would eventually want to live a little, and he by far preferred his job in the kitchens to his cleaning job. Nasty chemicals were not nearly as nice as food. Even his appearance as Alfred, neat and orderly, got him more respect and less trouble from his co-workers.

As he made his way to the bank again, Harry decided to give his duel personas, and his friends, one more month.

Emily was at her desk again when Harry showed up. She smiled up at him, and he sat down to wait for her to end her telephone conversation.

"No, your credit doesn't cover a loan for ten thousand! What do you even want that for any way? … I don't think an elephant is a very good investment. No, why don't you talk to your wife about your plans before you try to get a loan. … Very well, you take care now… Good bye." She shook her head a little while resting the phone in its cradle.

Swiveling in her seat, Emily began, "I just got a letter from the Potters yesterday, so I was expecting you. Do you have all the paperwork?"

Harry passed her the packet and smoothed his mustache a bit smugly. He was positively giddy to have his own account. He watched as she smoothly entered all the paperwork and printed out a little card with his account number on it. Grasping it in his hand, Harry felt the surge of freedom that had been coming on gradually for the past month flow over him in full force. Harry once again thanked Emily for all her help and walked over to the roped off line. He was depositing his first check!

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Harry wasn't brought down from his euphoria until four o'clock when he signed into the kitchen to begin his job.

"Alfred!" was shouted over the noise of the cooks and helpers. Harry was, by now, used to his second name and answered.

"Yes?"

"I think its time you got out of the kitchen and started serving. You are wasted as a potato peeler." Harry's innate grace had not gone unnoticed by the under-chef.

"Like room service?" Harry winced a little at the idea. There were all sorts of horror stories about what could happen when bringing food to people in their rooms.

"Not at all!" The under-chef reassured him. Gunther continued, "No, we need waiters for the VIP dinning room." Guests with money wouldn't put up with the buffets that the other guests were forced to use.

"Oh, um well, uh, why me?" Harry stuttered.

"The French guy quit, lousy foreigner, and we are short a waiter. You are pretty efficient and inoffensive. After all, we couldn't serve the money-bags with someone like Skyler, now could be?" Harry had to laugh at this; Skyler was about as offensive as you could be, with his dyed hair and many piercings. Harry had actually tailored the look of Alfred to be seen as little as possible. He still hated it when people stared at him.

"I guess I could do that."

"Very good, kid! Now, lets get to work!"


	3. Flat

Serving in the VIP room was a very different experience for Harry

Serving in the VIP room was a very different experience for Harry. In all his other jobs, he had moved along trying to do everything as efficiently as possible without disturbing anyone or allowing anyone to talk to him. Sleeping in the break room and chatting with Hedwig on the roof were the only breaks he got. In the VIP lounge, it was expected that he walk slowly and never come close enough to bother the patrons without a summons. Mostly He stood in the center of the room with drinks on a tray in one hand and a towel folded over the other arm.

The atmosphere was sedate and Harry enjoyed the anonymity one feels in the presence of the very rich. The feeling of being part of the furniture, only acknowledged when in use. Harry couldn't say he didn't like it, but he also found it very boring to just stand in the middle of the room waiting for the snap of a finger that beckoned him closer to the super wealthy patrons.

The customers liked 'Alfred' because he was unassuming and discreet. Nobody likes a servant who goes blabbing to the kitchen staff. The other good thing about working with all the High Class patrons was that Harry was paid extra for having to deal with the crazy requests he was generally subjected to. This added bonus allowed Harry to finally have enough money for a down payment on a small flat. He could quit his job as Harry Potter and stop secretly living in the break room.

Harry had pretty much given up on contact with his wizard friends. Therefore, it was with a saddened heart that he finally went house shopping after turning in 'Harry's' two week notice.

The first thing Harry looked for in apartments was distance in relation to The Horton. There was a pretty run down place about two blocks away which seemed to be in his price range. As Harry walked in he couldn't help being thankful to the Dursleys for desensitizing him to spiders and small living spaces.

Harry walked up to the manager's office and knocked on the inside of the door. A fat man chewing a dirty, unlit cigar answered with a grunt and an idle wave of his hand beckoning Harry inside the dingy office.

"Excuse me," Harry started into his request, "I'm looking for a flat. Preferably furnished, but most importantly, cheap."

"Cheap hmmm, do you have any issues with a fixer upper?" The man looked at Harry's uniform speculatively.

"Not at all!" Harry tried to smile instead of grimace, recognizing the man's look from dealing with Uncle Vernon.

"Hmm, well, come with me and I'll show you the cheapest room we got." The manager, still un-introduces, heaved himself from the spindly chair and scooped up a set of keys from the board behind his desk. Harry barely managed not to be run over as the man exited the office. Needless to say, Harry followed the man into the lobby and up the back stairs.

All of the way up to the fifth floor, Harry tried not to get too close to the struggling back of the manager and listened carefully to the labored breathing. Just to make sure he could get out of the way should the man's legs give out on the rickety staircase.

They stopped at a door just like all the other doors with the exception of the number, a barely hanging on, 11D. The manager opened it after struggleing with the keys for just a small moment.

"And there you go." He groweled. "The appliances are mostly broken, but you look the handy sort. I would recommend buying new sheets."

Harry looked around the flat with a wary eye, stopping on the chalk figures on the floor. He turned and raised his eyebrow.

"It's a real shame what they did to that dog." The man shrugged.

"I'll take it." Harry struck out his hand.

The man snorted, turning. "I'll get the paperwork."

Harry was abandoned, a rush of ownership spreading a smile across his face. "This is my _home_." He tried out the word. All of the sudden, the scuffed laminate tile didn't look so horrible. The little stove, less likely to blow up at any second, the tired sofa less saggy. This was home, and Harry had never had one before.

Harry barely contained the urge to spin around, and he was lucky as that was the moment when the man called, "Are you going to com sign these papers or not? I don't have all day you know!"

Harry trailed after the man somewhat dreamily. "My name is H-Alfred by the way."

"Bill." The man grunted back. Harry signed the papers leasing the apartment to him and was given a set of keys. "The big one is for the apartment; the little one is for your mail. If you loose them, the replacement fee is your responsibility."

Harry nodded enthusiastically and handed over the first months rent money. Life was getting easier every day.

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Harry was proud to change his address on his paper work, though he still didn't have a telephone number. He shrugged his shoulders, not particularly bothered. He still wouldn't be able to be home very much, as he still had a week and a half left working as Harry. He figured he could use the time while he wasn't really living in his flat to fix it up a bit. He had always been rather handy at fixing things, Dudley's toys for example, and if he went to the library to look up how exactly to wire a refrigerator, well that was neither here nor there. Hermione would never know.

Harry once again wondered what his friends were doing without him. He was sure they wouldn't forget about him. At least, he hoped they wouldn't. 'Maybe they are fighting off Dark Lord Lucius' Harry snickered at the thought of the blond man, whom he had seen kissing the robes of that snake, as anything other than a slave. 'It could happen I suppose…' Harry tried really hard not to burst out laughing in the silence all around him. He continued to silently chortle as he signed out and walked down the street. Maybe he would start with the lights next. It would be nice to have light in the darkness.


	4. Lies

As He walked into his cozy little flat, Harry immediately sensed something was off

As He walked into his cozy little flat, Harry immediately sensed something was off. The little flat felt… crowded. Almost as if they noticed Harry noticing them, the figures in the dark converged upon him. Flashes of silver announced the presence of knives, and Harry wondered briefly why he had never asked exactly what had happened to the chalked figures on the floor.

There was only one thing for it. The battery operated meat carving knife was just going to get in a little more action than he had previously thought. Instincts that Harry barely remembered came back as the figures struck out, and the buzzing little knife met one opponent who's arm got a little too close for comfort. Harry's comfort anyway.

Dispatching the two closest to him was easy, but Harry still wanted to know why he had unexpected visitors. Deciding instantly between revealing magic to someone who had a high chance of not being a death eater and ruining his new extension cord, Harry had to sacrifice his cord to the greater good.

Once the last man was tied up, Harry shined a torch straight into his eyes.

"Why are you in my flat?" Harry asked softly.

"This is our flat!" the man hissed harshly.

"Really?" Harry raised one eyebrow slowly. "I don't believe you pay rent on it. Or if you do, the land lord is cheating both of us and you should take this up with him."

"It's always been our flat! We don't need to pay for it! We even took that other guy out, and we thought they would get the message." The man snorted as he remembered the dog.

"Is that so," If it were possible, Harry's eyebrow twitched even higher.

The man began to look uncomfortable under such a direct gaze. "You see here!" he spluttered, "This is the only apartment where we can see into the MI5 building. How are we supposed to know what they're up to if we can't stake out here?"

"Why would you need to know what the MI5 is doing?" Harry was extremely confused by this leap in logic.

"Well they are situated right next to one of our warehouses." The man finally admitted, "It's not like we can just wait for them to raid us."

"Hmm." Harry stated noncommittally. The other man even started to look hopeful. Those hopes were dashed when Harry bashed him in the temple with the butt of his carving knife.

"I guess its time to meet some of my neighbors." Harry muttered to himself and slung the extra guest over his back, flicking his wand to each intruder lying on the floor and muttering "Stupefy."

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The building the now unconscious man had indicated was rather unremarkable. It looked similar to the other buildings to its right and left, and as Harry walked in he felt it hard to believe the long nailed receptionist would ever have anything to do with a spying industry. However, Harry just smoothed his mustache and cleared his throat to bring attention to himself.

The bored looking lady looked up from the screen she had been looking at so intently, annoyed that her game of solitaire had come to an abrupt end.

"How may I help you sir?" She asked smoothly.

Harry raised the head of the unconscious man he had dragged in. "Your neighbor seems to think someone in this building is a peeping Tom and brought the problem to me."

To give her credit, the woman didn't gasp. Her eyes did widen, but that is only to be expected when one sees a mild looking man carrying an unconscious thug as if everything is fine and dandy.

"Umm, let me just inform my supervisor and I'm sure we can get this all cleared up." The receptionist grabbed her desk phone and rapidly tapped at the buttons. Speaking in hushed tones she made a quick, earnest plea for someone to deal with this problem so she could get back to her pretend job and more importantly, her game of solitaire.

When she got off the phone, Harry and the woman awkwardly shared a silence that soon became interrupted by taps from her mouse. Harry was left to mull over the situation. It would be easy to clean up with magic, but he needed to make sure no one saw anything broken who might come again. That meant making sure the building manager didn't come to investigate. Harry didn't think that would be a problem as the man wouldn't push himself to go up the stairs for anything less than money or death.

Harry was interrupted from his mulling by elevator doors opening to reveal a tall man and a short woman. They walked with a briskness that screamed important and Harry felt fairly uneasy with what he had gotten himself into this time.

"Who might you be?" The man of the pair asked.

"Just a neighbor, you can call me Alfred. About these men…" Harry began.

"Yes, yes. What are you doing here?" The man interrupted.

Harry's nostrils flared but he took a deep calming breath. "I am here to turn in this man who apparently is worried about you spying on his company. I might advise you to look into some stealth techniques if a common street thug can tell when a government agency is peeking."

The woman looked offended to see he boss put in his place like that; obviously she was a government official, probably low level bureaucracy.

"Now see here!" she started and Harry had to once again fight for calmness.

"Ma'am, with all due respect, I have got three more goons in my apartment who are there for the view of this place. I really don't think you want to ignore this problem." Harry dropped his hostage on the floor and was about to turn on the heel to deal with the trespassers himself when the man called out.

"Alright, I'll send a cleanup crew over there and get rid of our little pest infestation." He sighed.

Harry nodded solemnly and poised himself to wait for the low level grunts he would have to lead to his apartment.

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When they finally got to Harry's apartment, two of the three prisoners were coming out of their stun spell. Harry was glad they had gotten back before they had fully come to, if only for fear of them further destroying his flat.

The two grunts that had followed him quickly to surrounded the hostages and hand cuffed them to take them to the building next door for questioning. Now that they had finally broken an obvious law and as much as admitted murder, they could finally take these thugs down and hopefully stop operations.

Harry was just glad to get them out of his house. He was sick of picking up for the government. It was no small wonder so many had recently turned to vigilantism.

Harry was almost free of those scum when the last of the grunts to leave turned and said, "We'll need to take you in for questioning too, sir. Just a practicality, but you were a witness."

Harry valiantly managed to restrain himself from cursing. Instead he quirked an eyebrow and simply said:

"By all means, I have nothing to hide."


	5. Caught!

Apparently, telling a spy agency he had nothing to hide gave him a direct ticket to the interrogation room

Apparently, telling a spy agency he had nothing to hide gave him a direct ticket to the interrogation room. After all, everyone has something to hide. Harry sat in a grey room at a grey table facing a grey mirror. A suave man stepped in the room about half an hour after the grunts had brought Harry back to their headquarters. Harry just wanted to be back to his apartment, hopefully with a nice cup of tea to accompany him.

"So your name is Alfred and you work at the Horton?" The intruder asked after looking casually through the file that he had snagged from the table.

"I'm afraid you have me at a disadvantage," The proclaimed Alfred sighed. "You know all there is to know about me, and yet I know nothing about you."

"Yes, about that." The man raised his finely sculpted eyebrow, "How does a waiter take out three low-level and one mid-level thugs of a major organized crime family whom, until now, no one could attach any sentence to. Can you tell me how that happened?"

"I don't see why it matters, or why I am being interrogated because of it. If they were such bad guys, you should be glad I dealt with them for you. Besides, they weren't that good; they were just no match for my new electric carving knife." Harry wished for a moment he really was Alfred and that all his skills in taking people down stemmed from an ocd desire to keep everything in perfect order.

Surprisingly, the man laughed. "We're not mad at you! At least, I think we aren't, I'm not actually the one supposed to talk to you. This is standard recruitment policy! Anyone who is as good as you with out any training would be unstoppable with it."

Harry felt his stomach sink. It seemed he couldn't escape the government, they always wanted him. Why couldn't everyone just leave him alone?

"Well I must tell you, I'm not interested. I have a stable job and no reason to put myself in danger." Harry almost cringed. He hated the way he sounded, but he refused to become a military pawn.

"You know, most operatives don't have much choice right?" the man seemed more serious as if remembering an experience he wished hadn't been brought up.

The self proclaimed Alfred snorted, "I don't have anything with which to blackmail me with. Sorry, but I have no family and no criminal record." Harry had family, he also had a criminal record, but Alfred didn't.

"You'll see." The man muttered and slipped out of the room, barely missing the bureaucratic woman as she bustled in to begin the interview.

It would be a long night.

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Harry had to refuse many times, and finally cite that his work would start soon to even be permitted out of the building. After all, even the MI5 likes to avoid missing person's reports. Harry just shook his head, no meant no and no government organization ever seemed to get that. "Stupid vultures" Harry muttered under his breath.

"Well that's just mean," A smooth voice interrupted, "There's no cause to insult vultures that way. They never did anything that wasn't a natural part of the circle of life."

Harry swirled around to find the same man who had talked to him earlier. Now that Harry thought about it, he was rather young to be involved in the government very high up, but then again, so was Harry when he looked like himself. The man had blond hair and stormy grey eyes and he stood with a barely restrained energy.

"Who are you really?" Harry looked down his nose at this man- boy.

"No need to get nasty, you can call me Alex. And for the record, I'm on your side. No need to get you involved in the government just because you would be good at it. They don't even know who you are, according to your file. Is Alfred even your real name?"

Harry sighed, "What do you want?"

"I want to know how you did it! Well, that and I think that you would be more useful as a civilian contact than as an operative. As an operative myself, I know that one can't have too many contacts in the normal world."

Harry supposed this couldn't be as bad as becoming a government lapdog. Besides, they would have to make sure that not too much attention was drawn toward him. That had some potential. However, Harry couldn't be sure what Alex really wanted or weather he even had the authority to offer Harry this convenient way out.

"I wouldn't mind being an occasional contact, but how do I know this isn't some weird ploy of yours that will just get me into more trouble?"

Alex just laughed and gave Harry a card with a security clearance and the words Alfred Pennyworth on it. "Come see me tonight at the headquarters. This card only has the lowest security clearance, but it is enough to get you into the gym. We can see then how good you are and I can talk to some higher ups about not bothering you so much."

With this, the other man broke off from beside him and quickly disappeared.

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Harry fiddled with the card and the decision all through work that day. As he dealt with wealthy patrons and drunken ambassadors, he felt that maybe he had something to offer. Maybe training would help him, maybe he was just holding on to the past too much. After all, what reason did Alfred have to fight the darkness? Who was Alfred anyway? Not for the first time, Harry wondered if he would come to regret his hasty character change.

As he turned in his tray for the night he had all but decided that maybe this would give him the excitement to keep himself sane. With that thought firmly in mind, Harry strode down the streets with determination, and when he got to his apartment, he turned into the building across the street instead of going home.

Once in the building, Harry fought to keep his features in check. 'Remember, Alfred is never shocked. Nothing fazes him, not even really scary receptionists who are probably really spies who can break him in half.' Harry gulped.

"Can you direct me to the gym? I was told to meet there." He didn't bother to smile sheepishly; he just kept his features firmly where they were and tried not to look as if he was bothered at all by the presence of frightening women.

A jerk of a thumb later and Harry was walking down a hall full of pictures of the various rulers of England. When he finally came to a door, Harry slid his card through the Hotel like key card slot. 'Think hotel, that's familiar territory.'

The door popped open and Harry entered to find Alex waiting for him. "Hello there." He smiled "So glad you could join me, Harry."


	6. Robbery Gone Wrong

Harry gasped

Harry gasped. Who was this Alex? How did he know that Alfred was also Harry? Had he slipped? Had said something to give himself away? Was Alex a Death Eater in disguise? A wizard, come to take him to the ministry? No, how would he recognize him. And besides, he hadn't done anything wrong.

Alex interrupted Harry's inner panic, "Did you think I wouldn't look up your background? I do find it interesting that you felt the need to change your name. Honestly Harry, a sharing a bank account with yourself? And getting a job at the same place at the same time, and then 'Harry' mysteriously disappears when 'Alfred' gets a promotion. It wasn't hard to figure out."

Harry didn't know weather to be glad it wasn't someone from his past, or angry to have been figured out.

"I can help you with that, you know." Alex looked around, "If you want 'Harry' to disappear. I don't know if you just liked one job better than the other or if you wanted to hide from something."

Harry was now angry at himself. He knew about the Internet, he was hiding, but he hadn't considered what would happen if muggles got curious. Death Eaters couldn't use the Internet and he wasn't hiding from muggles, but illegal name changes were sure to make it look like he was.

"How can you help? Not that I need it, but I would rather start fresh."

"It's just a matter of paperwork, Alfred." Alex winked and switched topics, "But we can save that for later, I suggest that right now, we work on what skills you do have."

The next hour was filled with sparring and a crash course in field tactics and skills. Over the next few days Harry found he was instinctive with wall sorts of vehicles from motorcycles to limousines but he had a little trouble adjusting to the backlash of most guns. Usually spells didn't have backlash, so he had to learn to aim appropriately.

One of the most useful things Harry learned was field medicine. With his luck, someone got hurt on every adventure he went on. While the one attacked was usually he, other people got hurt too and it would good to be able to actually do something to help them. Harry made a mental note to find a few healing spells so that he could help if he ever got to go back to the wizarding world.

At the end of each day of training with Alex, Harry was taught how to cover his paper trails and to create new ones. He wasn't expert at hacking or even using the Internet, but Alex made sure that as long as he stayed reasonably unobtrusive, he could fool a casual background check. That was only in the event that he needed to change his name from his current pseudonym though. Harry was grateful for the help with creating his persona, even if he was somewhat reluctant to loose all ties with his former self.

Besides his reluctance, Harry (or Alfred) was suspicious of all the help he was receiving. He had even asked Alex, "Why are you helping me?"

"You may not always be so reluctant to join the MI5 as you are now," was the simple reply. Harry couldn't get another answer no matter how persistent he was, and after a few unusual lessons, he guessed that Alex had been taught how to avoid questioning and he stopped trying.

Harry was glad he had some practical skills besides cooking and cleaning at the end of his training. The only thing Alex asked in return was somewhat strange.

"Alfred," He started when they were practicing parallel parking a limo at high speeds, "I want your promise that if you ever get over your scruples you will come back here to work and you wont go vigilante on us.

Thinking of the Order, Harry felt the urge to squirm uncomfortably but managed to remind himself that Alfred didn't squirm. "I won't." Harry promised.

AAH6AAH6AAH6AAH6AAH6

Weeks later when Harry, as Alfred, was practicing popping up at tables just as the patrons raised their hands to wave him over; someone came into the VIP lounge with a gun. The man had two friends who blocked the front entrance and the door to the kitchen. All three had black pantyhose masking their faces and distorting their noses. The main man lifted his gun and ordered all of the high-class patrons to the floor.

Harry squatted behind the booth he had just surprised and cursed his luck. What kind of robbers robed a hotel anyway? He wondered not quite hysterically. Unfortunately, the robbers had picked a hotel that had an uncomfortable proximity to the coppers.

One of the more paranoid old women had already put in a call in the confusion and as the burglar had begun his rounds with a sack for jewelry and money clips the situation escalated with teams of law enforcement blocked the outside exits. Harry almost cursed the woman for turning an armed robbery into a hostage situation.

Unfortunately, the situation went from bad to worse. Apparently, one of his patrons was quite a political figure and one of the other patrons was a suicide bomber who had planned to kill the woman that night. All the stress and confusion came to a climax when a woman screamed.

Attention was turned to her. A pregnant woman with blood soaking her dress was not what the robbers had had in mind. Chaos mounted as the man who had been waving his gun began fervently denying that he had shot her. A few of the more calm husbands tried to reassure the hysterical robber so he might just let the coppers in. He would not be calmed however and the pregnant woman's husband began begging for a doctor in the room.

None of the eaters admitted to the profession and many were confused as to what was happening, what with the suicidal man being talked down from the window and the robber bursting into tears to the embarrassment of the door guards. The one guarding the kitchen eventually just took over the bag and tried to get money from the angry hostages.

Harry crept to the waiters' station in the middle of the room for clean towels and a sharp dessert knife, which he stuck in clean, hot dishwater. He knew the woman needed help and he couldn't trust the delinquents to look past themselves to the woman. He wasn't sure he could help, but he had to try.

"Are you going into labor?" Harry hissed to the woman who was by now sweating profusely from her temples and dampening her previously straight hair into frizzy coils.

"What do you think?" the woman spat in and accent Harry had never heard before.

The rude woman's husband gave Harry a pleading look and grasped her hand tightly.

"I'm a surgeon," the woman's husband stated. "Dr. Thomas Wayne, but I am no expert on babies."

"I am not sure I can help you much, but if this goes on much longer the baby might be in danger." Dr. Wayne started giving Harry directions on things he could do to help and was surprised when he found that the young waiter had already retrieved the necessary equipment. Harry listened intently over the yelling of the robber who was now crying on one of the shoulder of rich man and explaining his sob story to the uncomfortable man.

Harry spread the clean towels under his work area as calmly as he could. The world around fell into a buzzing white noise as Harry focused solely on the woman and her unborn child. Dr Wayne was whispering breathing patterns that he had obviously practiced before. When Harry saw the top of a little head he urged her to push as she clenched her teeth on a towel to try to stifle her gasps and cries.

Her muffled screams couldn't be herd over the din, and the blood wasn't noticed as Harry passed the dessert knife over to cut the umbilical cord for the little boy. The shrieking cry of the newborn baby however, cut through everything, and the room went silent around them.

This was the final straw for the over emotional thief and he ran into the unguarded kitchen and out through the door into the waiting police officer's arms. Harry wrapped the wet sticky baby in a towel and passed him to his waiting mother. While she cooed at her new son, her husband apologized to Harry.

"My wife isn't usually so sarcastic." Dr. Wayne smiled ruefully at his family.

"Don't worry about it," Harry assured him, he was used to the attitudes of the Dursleys, and Mrs. Wayne was an angel compared to them.

Through the kitchen, the coppers rushed in to allay the hostage's fears and to deal with the suicidal bomber who was having second thoughts. Harry, separated from the Waynes, watched feeling a familiar feeling of accomplishment as Britain's finest escorted them to a waiting ambulance.


	7. Room Service

The morning after the robbery had taken place, Harry found himself on the dreaded room service duty

The morning after the robbery had taken place, Harry found himself on the dreaded room service duty. With the VIP lounge closed for cleaning as for the sensibilities, Harry's cushy job had been momentarily taken away.

As he walked away from the food cart and held the steel breakfast tray in one hand, Harry braced himself for what he could possibly encounter in room 201. He had not, however, been expecting violently flung arms to grab him in a warm embrace. Confused, Harry simply patted the fluffy woman on the shoulder and looked around for someone to call her off. In the room Harry saw the doctor, Thomas Wayne, standing off to the side smiling softly at him.

"Your breakfast sir," the Alfred persona took over in an attempt to escape the Weasley-esque hug.

The man had the audacity to simply take the tray from his waiter's hands and leave his wife rocking back and forth in another man's arms. Dr. Wayne disappeared into the back room and reappeared moments later carrying a baby instead of a tray.

With the entrance of the baby, Mrs. Wayne finally let go and moved back to look at Harry with shining eyes.

"You saved my baby, and I don't even know your name!" she gushed.

Harry wasn't sure it was a good idea for someone that hysterical to know who he was, but he simply cleared his throat and said, "Alfred ma'am."

Mrs. Wayne wiped her eyes and relieved her husband of the baby. Holding him up, she introduced her baby, "Well Alfred, this is Bruce. We would be honored if you would agree to be his godfather."

Harry's mind flashed back to his own godfather, and the few memories they shared. "I would be delighted Mrs. Wayne."

Dr. Wayne stepped forward to his wife, "This brings us to the other thing we wanted to ask you. Our Butler retired last month and we need a replacement. We had planned to interview candidates from his family on our trip. However, we would like to offer the position to you." Mrs. Wayne smiled happily at the idea.

For a moment, Harry was tempted to take them up on that offer. That thought passed however, with thoughts of his friends whom Harry had left behind. He knew they were at school, but Harry couldn't imagine leaving without making sure that his friends were doing well. Though they had shared no contact in the months Alfred had been alive, Harry needed closure.

"I'm sorry, I can't," Alfred's smooth voice came into being, "I have responsibilities here."

Harry hated seeing the light go out of the Waynes' faces at the news.

"Is it the money?" Mr. Wayne implored, "We can afford to pay you more than your currant income."

"No, nothing like that," Harry sighed, " I just have… Family matters." After all, his friends were the only family he had.

Mrs. Wayne looked up at her husband and stepped back towards him, taking her newly born baby into her arms. Mr. Wayne looked around awkwardly before reaching into his pocket. Out came a little white card with tiny writing on it. He handed this card to the man he knew only as Alfred.

"Well, I guess that's all I can say on the matter, but here is my business card. Martha and I will be in London for the next two weeks. If you change your mind, call this number."

Harry smiled at the generous couple and took the card. "Thank you. I must be going now." Alfred bowed to the Waynes and Harry swiftly walked down the hall with his cart full of silver trays.

AAH7AAH7AAH7AAH7AAH7AAH7AAH7AAH7

After work, a pep talk was needed to allow Harry to walk back into the Leaky Cauldron and allow magic back into his life for more than just tough stain removal. It took several false starts and pacing past the same door, to the extent that a passer by might have wondered if the strange man was trying to invoke the magics of the Room of Requirement. And that would only be if the average passer by had known about that magical room, and if they could in fact see the door of the 'Cauldron.

When the door finally opened, Harry had only to walk swiftly through the pub and sit on one of the end barstools, hoping to hear the news.

"…New book out, he finally regained his memory. I heard…"

"And then I told her, 'Susan, you have got to go to St. Mungo's with that yeast infection! They are very discreet'…"

"…Newest sensation. I don't know what has gotten into teenagers these days…"

"…That werewolf protection registry, best idea the ministry ever had…"

"And they call it Music with Rocks in, it's the oddest thing…"

"Well, with the exchange rates, I may just take my gold out…"

"…If Gladrags is good enough for my great grand-hag, then it better be good enough…"

"… I wouldn't put it past Dark Lord Luscious to revoke his protection…"

'What?' Harry wondered, 'I just defeated a dark lord and another has already taken his place?' Eavesdropping on one particular conversation taught Harry more than he ever wished to know about the progression of Dark Lords. He also learned that the void created by the long running Voldemort, was large enough for several Dark Wizards to battle for dominance. This fight included poisonings, on the part of 'The Prince of Darkness,' and severely burglaries on the heads of 'Darth Ank' and 'Darth Oke' though that had mainly been a get rich scheme.

He who won out had been Lord Luscious, who sounded remarkably like the elder Malfoy. The public's casual attitude toward him spoke volumes about his type of Dark Lord, one who lorded over politicians, whom everyone had always suspected were dark minions, and banks instead of killing off witches and wizards alike.

However, as talk turned to banks, the sickening truth of Harry's sudden bankrupted was finally explained. The goblins had rebelled. Siding with the rich Dark Lord was only good business sense. Siding against Lucius Malfoy in anything, be it broom development or politics, apparently led to financial ruin. Suddenly, harsh thoughts about the Order and the Weasleys came hauntingly back. As did memories of the one gold Galleon in the Weasley family Vault, and the fight between Arthur Weasley and Lucius Malfoy at a bookshop so long ago.

With dread creeping into his mind, Harry became desperate to find out what had happened to the Weasleys. Catching Tom's eye, Harry laid down the payment for his single butterbeer and strode out of the grimy little pub.


	8. Back to the Wizarding World

Harry left the Leaky Cauldron searching for answers. The resentment he had secretly been harboring towards those who had neglected to owl him could have been unfounded and he at fault. The guilt was hard to bear for one who had been so loyal for so long.

Walking down the streets of Diagon Alley was like going back in time. Boys still pressed their noses to the Quality Quiddich Supply store, and housewives still complained at the rising costs of potion ingredients. One glaring change was Weasley's Wizard Wheezes. The windows were crisscrossed with boards and a small foreclosure sign had been tacked to the front door. Shock was beginning to loose its surprise for Harry. When he considered the Weasley's situation, he felt sick to his stomach. He felt the need to once more be the hero. To save his friends from danger.

While he had fought nobly for the Wizarding World when it was being oppressed under Voldemort's shadow, he had really only been fighting for the vague sense of the future that might be. With his long-term friends being directly threatened, Harry's full sense of duty flew forth from the cramped space in his mind that it had been sharing with his magic.

Harry knew he had to find out if his practically adopted family were still alive. However, he was still Slytherin enough to know that he couldn't just ask anyone, especially with how he looked now. Anyone who had helped hide them wouldn't tell a stranger (he hoped) and others wouldn't know. This was, of course, assuming that they had even had help hiding.

Harry stood close to the boarded up door, staring at the little sign but not reading it. In his mind he went over every possible place that he could imagine his friends hiding. It wasn't until he thought about it that he realized how little he knew about his friends. Sure He knew that Hermione loved to read and her parents were dentists. But had he ever asked if her grandparents were still living or if she had any cousins? And Ron was even worse! He knew every single member of his best friend's family, but he didn't know of any place they could go other than the Burrow. He had always been the one in need of rescuing.

Thinking on this, Harry came to the conclusion that he was going to have to sneak into the ministry to check for other Weasleys among the records. Fortunately, as he was about to turn and leave, Harry finally noticed what the sign said.

_Out to Lunch_

_If not back by 5_

_Out to dinner also_

_If not back by tomorrow_

_On Vacation_

_If not back by the time schools starts_

_Swear._

To anyone but Harry, it was simply a funny way of putting 'we got foreclosed' as was expected of any proprietor of a good joke shop. The last two lines meant something to him though. Looking around furtively, our hero whispered, "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good." The letters flew into a neat boarder surrounding the message:

_Go around back_.

Harry was shocked. Not enough that he forgot to clear the message, but enough. He ran through a tiny ally to the back of the store. There was no door. Next to the dumpster there was instead a triple w marking on the pavement. Harry reached for it. And Fell.

The trip wasn't long and Harry landed on a large red pillow that looked like it had received quite a bit of use. Twin wands pointed at Harry until he smiled with joy and reverted to his actual appearance.

"Fred! George! What's going on, it's like the whole world went spare while I was gone!"

The wands dropped and Harry was lifted to his feet.

"Harry mate, the world has gone spare-"

"Completely topsey turvy-"

"Everyone is just dying to appease the new Dark Lord-"

"Dark Prick is more like it."

"Wait," Harry interjected, "Who exactly _is_ the dark lord currently? It was a bit hard to keep track."

The twins shared a pained look. "Well you see," George started as they walked into the under ground room towards a bright orange table surrounded by blue chairs.

"There was a bit of a power vacuum when You-Know-Who died-"

"Tried to capitalize on it, we did." They shared a smug look.

"Alas we were beaten out by the Dark Creep-"

"Darn Lucius."

"First he takes our Mum, then he takes our life's ambition-"

"To be the greatest Prank Lords ev-"

"What! Wait a minute, what do you mean Malfoy took your mum?" Harry was shocked that they seemed to brush this off like a minor detail.

"Well, as you know"

"Or don't know as the case may be"

"Our dad fought a lot with Mr. Malfoy-" Fred casually leaned back in his blindingly blue chair.

"Any chance he got really." George leaned forward to share an amused look with his twin across the table.

"Turns out they used to be the greatest friends." The twins stared at Harry as he processed this information, sniggering at the odd expression that came over his face as he tried to imagine the two as chums.

"That's what we thought!"

"Apparently they had a bit-"

"Of a falling out over a girl."

"Dad didn't say which one-"

"But we aren't idiots you know."

"We know it was mom."

"What?" Harry exclaimed. "I thought your families were in some sort of blood feud that had lasted centuries!"

Fred and George turned to each other and burst into laughter. By the time their eyes started tearing up, Harry got the feeling that he must have missed something.

"Ah ha ha, Ron and-"

"That little Malfoy twit-"

"Would make you thing that-"

"But really they just don't like each other."

"Little snots take it out on-"

"Absolutely everyone, and we-"

"just think Malfoy's a brat."

Once again, Harry's worldview was shattered over his head like the first bottle in a bar fight.

"Then, your mom and Mr. Malfoy-? But what about Mrs. Malfoy! And how-? Huh?" Apparently that bottle hit him pretty hard. "You know what? I really don't want to know." Harry shook away a few disturbing images and abruptly changed the subject.

"Speaking of: how is Ron doing?" Harry was considerably calmer. All his nervous energy was placed in the shaky stroking of an absent moustache, which he had grown used to but no longer possessed.

The twins sobered at this, "He, well, he had a fight with Hermione."

"Turns out all the fighting and the nagging weren't because she liked him."

"Boy, was he shocked!"

"She wanted to go to a Muggle University-"

"There aren't any Magical Universities you know-"

"Newts are the highest you can get-"

" Besides Apprenticeships for advanced jobs."

"And guess where she got accepted?"

"The American University in Bulgaria"

"What!" Harry spat.

"Yea, apparently she ended up visiting Victor Krum on the sly."

"She didn't tell anyone because she thought-"

"And rightly so-"

"That Ronnie-kins would flip his lid."

Harry interrupted again, "But how can she even be accepted in a university? She didn't continue her normal studies did she? Oh its Hermione, of course she did!"

"Got it in one, old chap!"

"No wonder the poor thing was so tightly strung."

"I can't believe this, she's in Bulgaria? That's why she didn't send me any letters I guess" Harry murmured morosely. "But what's Ron's excuse?"

The twins looked exasperated. "He's at the zoo."

"Today?" Harry asked, frustrated.

"Er, no."

"You Remember, He got in a fight with Hermione."

"She knows spells like you would never believe"

"Would be right scary if she ever turned to pranking"

"She right scary any way"

"Whish she would work for us"

"Yea."

They contemplated this thought for a moment, shivering in delight. Harry didn't want to know what horrible things they were thinking up, but at the same time, he could appreciate the thought of Hermione backing up the twins shear creativity with her vast knowledge of spells.

Leaning back farther, Harry's eyebrow moved up.

"The zoo?"

"Aah, well, Hermione is creative."

"She-"

"Well-"

"Uh haha-"

"Spit it out." Harry exclaimed.

"She turned him into a baboon." They said in tandem.

"Said if he wanted a domineering wife he could have one."

"We got him back to normal-"

"Eventually."

"But apparently it was so nice at the zoo-"

"They fed him and he didn't have to think or bathe-"

"That he didn't want to come back to human civilization-"

"So we turned him back.-"

"But if you ever want to visit him-"

"You can go see the baboon exhibit at the London Zoo."

"He is the one with the long red nose"

Breathing became an issue as Harry laughed. And Laughed and Laughed.

"I guess that's okay then, we can still visit." He forced out eventually.

"So," Harry leaned back still farther in his chair. "How is everyone else doing? How is the old Quiddich team?"

"Ah, so glad that you asked!" George exclaimed as Fred stood up.

Fred opened an adjoining door, "Let me introduce you to-"

"Our lovely-"

"Minions," they finished together as all the girls Harry had ever been on the Quiddich team with walked into the room wearing short magenta robes."

Harry fell out of his char.


	9. A New Idea

A hand shot out to swat the back of George's head. Fred smirked at his good fortune until the hand evened the score. The hand belonged to Ginny Weasley, providing an eerie impression of another feared female in the Weasley twin's lives.

"What was that?" She asked, living up to her hair color.

"Erm, our lovely-"

"Employees?" The twins covered.

Unfortunately for the males present in the room, that excuse was too little too late. The twins were in trouble now, and their female friends decided to set the record straight.

"They're still in a snit because they tried to become the new Dark Lords after You Know Who was defeated for good." Angelina took one of the lurid blue chairs while Alicia helped Harry back up. "Unfortunately, this had the unexpected side effect of making their names mud with the current Dark Lord. To further their problems, the current Lord is more of a loan shark than an evil wizard and they are unable to run their business since he got the goblins to side with him."

Harry didn't know what to feel. He had known that The Wizarding World hadn't waited before moving on in their seemingly never-ending supply of Dark Lords. It was not as surprising as it could have been that the twins had sought to be one of many. It was more surprising that they had let it get in the way of jokes.

"Why don't you go start up in another country?" He asked sensibly.

To this inquiry he received multiple blank looks. It appeared the lack of logic had saturated this bunch as much as the rest of Wizardkind.

"Well its not as if you have anyone to stay here for, and it can obviously be done! Hermione's doing it!"

"Where would we go?" For once, the twins didn't try to confuse him at all.

"Oh I don't know, India? They still speak the Queen's English, and it's far enough away that any stigma attached to you probably wouldn't stick."

"Ginny!" Fred turned to his sister excitedly.

"Don't ask me," she huffed, "it's your business that's suffering."

As they started discussing the idea excitedly, Harry felt vaguely manipulative. He couldn't help feel that he was shedding connections to the Wizarding World right and left. It was almost as if he didn't _want_ to be attached to that part of his life anymore. Did he really want to live out the rest of his life as a butler? Sadly, the more that was revealed about the place he once called home, the more he realized that was exactly what he was hoping for.

It seemed such a silly goal. Years spend training to do something adventurous and exciting wasted when it all came down to it. The very hated chores the Dursleys had inflicted upon him were the only life skills that he would take into his adult life.

As the two menaces to society were finally distracted from the conversation, Harry turned to Alicia and Angela to catch up and find out what hijinks the rest of his former acquaintances. It wasn't very surprising that most of the sensible people had gone overseas to get away from the mess that was British Wizardry.

"Oh, and you remember Professor Lupin right?" Angelina was saying, "He ran off with some young Auror chit. The ministry is furious, of course."

"Tonks?" Harry asked, happy for his friend.

"That sounds familiar. Maybe." She hedged, "And rumor has it that the two of them are far north, making a cozy little life at a reindeer farm."

Alicia sighed, "Its all terribly romantic. It would be like Christmas all the time."

While doing manual labor in a frozen wasteland and dealing with temperamental beasts didn't exactly sound appealing, it was a wise move on Harry's part to simply nod along. Everyone has his or her own idea of romance, and arguing about it never showed anyone any reason. Some forms of logic must be there originally.

"Oh, and Seamus Finnigin, the boy has gone and opened up a whiskey factory. I must say that I'm surprised it wasn't rum."

As he heard of the various fates of intelligent and less brilliant classmates and friends, Harry felt better and better about his decision. By the end of his conversation, unable to lean on former friends, Harry was ready to make a trip away from Diagon Ally, possibly for the last time.

As he was leaving, the twins were packing their store into a deceptively small carpetbag, and the shop 'minions' were cleaning the nooks and closing the crannies. He smiled, and let himself out, slowly altering his appearance one last time into the form he had become accustomed to. As his features shifted, he was lost in the crowd, and any who had cared to look could not have found their black haired friend.

As he passed through the magic barrier Harry pulled out a little card. He didn't watch as the tiny pub disappeared between two shops. Instead his eyes were focused on a public telephone. Giving the device the last of his pocket money, he dialed the numbers neatly printed on the front of the card. His last words as Harry were "Hello Mrs. Wayne, I have changed my mind about your offer."

And Harry was no more. A man called Alfred started his new life and the rest, my friends, is History.


End file.
